After the Fall
by tec4cleveland
Summary: This is a squad story, with some Caje-centric elements. It's set after "A Day in June" and around "Forgotten Front". New replacements show up, Hanley is promoted and Caje is still dealing with losing Theo. Rated "T" only for one short scene.


**AFTER THE FALL**

**ETO, Not too long after D-Day**

**[A/N: This takes place after "Day in June" and around "Forgotten Front".  
>Thank you to WQ for the excellent beta. If you see anything wrong here,<br>I take full ownership.]**

**© 2010, TEC4 for original plot elements and characters**

**Text in [brackets] is supposed to be French, so I didn't have to translate it all and you don't have to translate it back. **

"Sarge, I'm worried about Caddy."

Saunders took the cigar out of his mouth and looked at his corpsman's mournful face. "Why?"

"It's been three days since Theo was killed and he didn't have time to think about it before we settled down in bivouac. Now it's all he has time to think about. He's hardly moved since we got in, won't play cards or talk or anything. Braddock told me he doesn't think Caddy's eaten anything either. And I'd trust Braddock to notice that."

"I'm not the chaplain, Doc." As the medic started to protest, he raised his hand. "I know, I know." He stopped cleaning the Thompson, set it aside and stood. "Give me a minute, and I'll go see him."

"Saunders!"

The non-com turned to see the newly promoted Lieutenant Hanley. Some of the jauntiness was gone from the former sergeant's stride, as if the new bars on his collar weighed him down. "I've got three new replacements here for you. They were all on Omaha Beach." He indicated the soldiers with him: one, a giant of a man, the second, a youngster who looked like he should be playing at soldier rather than really fighting, and the third, a dark, slender fellow who somehow reminded Sarge of Caddy.

"Right, Lieutenant." Saunders reviewed the replacements. "Who we got here?"

"Sarge, I'm Littlejohn."

"Littlejohn, eh?" There was a hint of a smile on Saunders' face.

"Well, Hutchens, but all anyone calls me is Littlejohn."

Sarge nodded, the grin a little wider.

"Hi. I'm Nelson, Billy Nelson." This was from the young man with a classic All-American face.

"Nelson." _I'll bet he's a lot older now than he was a week ago. _He reminded Saunders of his youngest brother. _Don't be in any rush to get out here, Chris._

"And I'm Joe Caissy!" the third man said with a wide grin. His accent was very familiar and Sarge was reminded again of Caddy. _Maybe this is what Caddy needs, someone else who understands him and his culture._

"Well, c'mon, and I'll show you where First Squad is set up." As the replacements followed him, he called over his shoulder, "Caissy!"

"_Oui_, Sarge," the soldier said as he moved to catch up.

"I take it you're Cajun?"

Some of the man's easygoing manner faded and he answered warily, "Yes, I am, Sarge. Is t'at a problem?"

"No, no, not at all." Sarge tilted his helmet back and rubbed his forehead. "We got a Cajun soldier in our outfit. His buddy bought it on Omaha and he – well, he's not doing so hot. I was thinking maybe you might be able to talk to him – you speaking the same language and all."

"_Mais_, sure. I'll try. I –" He broke off in mid-sentence and the wide grin reappeared on his face. "'Ey, LeMay! Paulie! _Ça va, mon ami! Par Dieu, il est bon de te voir!_"

Bewildered, Sarge looked back and forth between the two men, as the soldier he knew as Paul "Caddy" Cadron rose to his feet, began to smile hesitantly, lost consciousness and collapsed.

###

"So let me get this straight," Hanley said. "Caddy's not really Caddy. Or at least his last name isn't Cadron?"

"No, sir. It's like I told t'e sergeant. Paulie's _papa_ didn't want him to enlist. He'd just finished from college up in Canada and _M'sieu'_ Denis wanted him to stay home and be a – _c'est quoi_? A person who draws buildings?"

"An architect." Hanley said flatly, bemused. "Caddy is a college graduate with a degree in architecture."

"Yes, sir." Caissy didn't seem to find this extraordinary. "_Mais_, Paulie wanted to be in the army like his _Nonc_ Pierre, who was an officer in de Big War. So he change his name when he and T'eo enlist so his _papa_ couldn't stop it. Cadron is his _Mamère_ LeMay's family name."

Hanley scrubbed his hand over his face. "What's his status, Doc?"

"The aid guys say he's eating and sleeping now, but emotionally –" The corpsman shrugged. "I don't know. You know he took losing Theo pretty hard."

"Dey been best friends since they was just _p'tits, _almost like brot'ers. Dere _papas_ _et noncs_, dere _papères_, _tous des amis_. Yeah, losin' T'eo … 'bout the worst thing that could happen to Paulie." Joe shifted uncomfortably. "Who came up with dis 'Caddy' t'ing, eh?"

"Theo," Brockmeyer spoke up. He sat to one side, shuffling Hanley's paperwork and pretending not to listen. "I was in basic with them at Shelby. It always seemed like some kind of joke between 'em."

"Maybe it help if you don't call 'im dat no more. It have to be remindin' him of somet'ing he want to forget, _non_?"

Saunders and Hanley exchanged a look. Saunders nodded. "I'll pass the word, but it'll probably still happen out of habit."

"I guess I should change his name on the record. His father can't drag him back from Europe." Hanley looked up. "Or can he?"

Joe shrugged. "Don't t'ink so, Lieutenant, but with Denis LeMay, who knows?"

###

Saunders sat by Cadron's cot – _no, got to remember. Not Cadron, LeMay. _He'd spoken to Braddock, Kelly and some of the other men who had been in the squad almost from the beginning about the situation. Braddock suggested calling the Cajun "Caje" instead of "Caddy". _Can't hurt._

LeMay stirred and murmured indistinctly. His eyes snapped open and he focused on the non-com. "Sarge?" He took in the cot and tent. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"No. I –" He stopped. "Did I see Joe Caissy?"

"Yep."

LeMay thought for a moment. "Did he tell you … that Cadron isn't my name?"

Saunders nodded. "He told us. Lieutenant Hanley's changing your name on the record."

"_Papa_ didn't want me in the army." His eyes dimmed and he turned away from Sarge. "Maybe he was right."

"LeMay." Sarge sobered. "Look, I don't know what the situation is between you and your father. But you're good at what you do. I've seen your basic record and I've seen you in action."

"Sarge, I ran away!"

"Yes, but you came back and you made good. We couldn't have done it without you. Listen, I'm sorry about Theo. But you have to keep going – you have to eat and sleep when you can or you'll fall apart completely. You think he'd want that?"

"Oh." The sadness was back in his eyes as though he had managed to forget Theo for a moment. LeMay shook his head. "No, he wouldn't. He'd probably smack me up side of t'e head." He took the cigarette Saunders lit for him and inhaled deeply.

Sarge lit his own cigarette and puffed for a moment. "Caissy said you guys were like brothers."

"Yeah." The Cajun fought for control. "_Mon frère. _T'e only one I ever had and now I don't have him any more." His eyes sparkled with suppressed tears.

"LeMay," Saunders hesitated, and then went ahead. "I know what it's like to lose a brother. Let me tell you about Joey."

###

"You Saunders?"

"Yeah, I'm Saunders." Sarge squinted through the smoke of the cigarette clamped in his teeth. "And you?"

"Kirby, William G. I'm your replacement." He wiped his nose on his sleeve and put one hand on his hip, the other hand holding his Garand at his side.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The Lieutenant sent me here."

"Glad to have you. That's Caje, Kelly, Littlejohn, Braddock, Nelson, Doc, Caissy and Wallace. The others are around and you'll meet 'em later."

The squad nodded, and Kirby grinned. "Hey, got a poker game going?" He walked around Saunders to get to the card players.

Brockmeyer ran up, out of breath. "Sarge, the Lieutenant needs to see you right away. Something happened to Black Rook."

Saunders tossed his cigarette butt, hopped up and left with the radioman.

"Black Rook?" Kirby asked.

"Sergeant McGraw and his squad," Braddock remarked.

"He went out for t'e big gun," Caje added.

Caje's accent made Kirby look at him twice. "Yeah? Why's this gun such a big deal?"

Caje, Littlejohn, Braddock and Kelly glanced at one another. The new replacement had attitude and to spare.

"Well – Kirby, was it? When we start the big offensive that the brass cooked up, if the big gun's not there, we have a better chance of living through it." Littlejohn sniped. "If that matters to you."

"It matters, wise guy."

His attention went back to Caje. "What kind of name is 'Caje', anyway?"

Braddock piped up. "You're a replacement soldier, and 'Caje' is a replacement nickname. We didn't like his old nickname so we took up a collection and bought him a new one."

"Great. A whole squad full of wise guys."

"Then you'll fit right in here," Braddock riposted.

Sarge returned hastily. "Okay, Doc, Caje and …" He paused for a moment. "… Kirby. Caje, pull a full load of ammo for us. Doc, make sure you've got a full kit. Saddle up! Get your packs and let's go. We've got to move."

Caje and Doc were up and off instantly.

"Kirby? You deaf?"

"I just got here!"

"So, you're going out on your first patrol. Got a problem with that?"

The new squad member stood reluctantly. "No, Sarge."

Saunders turned away and took off at top speed. He called Caje and Doc, and the three of them started out of the bivouac area. He turned back to see Kirby still standing by Littlejohn and Braddock.

"KIRBY!" Sarge roared. "Get MOVING!"

"Jeez," Kirby said. "Is he always like this?"

"I'd move if I were you," Littlejohn said dryly.

"Yeah," Braddock said. "He's gonna get really cranky if you don't get going."

Kirby shook his head, but he trotted toward the patrol and the four men left the camp.

###

That night the group returned, exhausted and soaking wet.

"Good work getting the big gun." Hanley's eyebrows rose when he saw their sorry state. "Go for a swim, Saunders?"

"Yep." He nodded. "With a Kraut tank for a lifeguard."

"Let's hear all about it, Sergeant." Hanley motioned Saunders to his tent. Saunders nodded again, and then glanced at Caje, who was standing by emotionless, staring into the distance.

"Caje?"

The scout looked up, startled.

"Caje, get cleaned up and get some sleep."

"Right, Sarge." The Cajun moved off.

Joe Caissy came out of the tent next to Caje's. "Paulie?"

"Joe … hey."

Caje went into his tent and wearily lowered himself to the cot, placing his gun under it. Slowly, he began to pull off his wet uniform.

Joe came in after him and leaned against the tent post. How are you?

"Ah, Joe." He leaned his head on his hands. I don't know. Sometimes, I get by and I don't feel so bad. And then, tonight … His voice trailed off.

["Talk to me, Paulie. I know we were never as close as you and T'eo, but we go back."]

["Yeah, we do.'] Caje looked up at Joe, head tilted. ["Remember how you sent us off on dat wild goose – no, wild _caimon _– chase when we were kids? For treasure?"]

Joe smiled. ["Sure do. _Papa_ was furious wit' me."]

["Mine, too. Wit' me, I mean."]

They were silent for a moment. Then Caje sighed. ["Joe, I'm not sure I'm gonna be a good soldier, me."]

["Why not?"]

["I don't want to kill people. When I face someone I have to close my eyes and then I see T'eo, spinning away, the machine gun bullets … His voice shook with the effort to control it. I wish _Nonc_ Pierre had let me know how it was gonna be …"]

["He wasn't the same when he came back, my _Papa_ told me. I don't think he never told no one what he saw or did, not even your _Papa. _He probably didn't know how to tell you. Paulie –"] He paused. ["No one normal likes to kill people. What you feel – I do, too. You think, 'Ey, dat guy over dere, he got a family and a home, probably.' But so do your _amis_, _cher_. Littlejohn, Braddock, Nelson, Sarge, de ot'ers – dey want to go home, get married, have kids, get old. You don't do what they brought you over here for, maybe t'ey don't get to.']

Caje pulled his beret off and tossed it to one side. ["I guess so."] He stood. ["I got to get cleaned up and get some sleep."] He smiled ruefully. ["Thanks, Joe."] He picked up his shaving kit and fresh uniform, squeezed his friend's shoulder and left.

["Okay, Paulie"]. He watched Caje walk to the showers. _Be all right, _mon ami.

###

The next morning, Braddock watched Sarge and Caje talking. He nudged Doc, who had been with the two men. "What's that all about?"

Doc shrugged. "I'm not sure. Something to with the patrol Lieutenant Hanley assigned us, I guess. Sarge told Caje he was Acting Squad Leader."

"Hmm. Well, here comes our Acting Squad Leader now. Heya, Chief!"

"Braddock," Caje had a small smile on his face. "Seen t'e others?"

"Yeah. Kirby's got a card game going and he's cleaning Kelly out."

Caje laughed out loud. "I guess I won't be sitting down with Kirby any time soon."

"Smart."

They headed for the sound of a loud argument. Kelly accused Kirby of hiding cards up his sleeve and Kirby denied it just as loudly.

"Enough!"

At Caje's shout, Kelly and Kirby froze in mid-argument.

"Let's get going. Kirby, Kelly, Wallace, Littlejohn, Caissy, Braddock, get ammo for a patrol and get back here."

"I don't see any new stripes on your sleeve, LeMay!"

"He's the Acting Squad Leader, Kirby." Sarge came up behind Caje and eyed Kirby darkly. "That means that when he tells you to pull ammo and come back here, you do it."

Kirby flushed, pivoted on his heel and left.

"Good luck, Caje. I think you're going to need it."

"Thanks, Sarge."

###

Acting Squad Leader LeMay led the group into a clearing in the deep forest they had been traveling through. He signaled them to form up around him and pulled out the map Saunders had gone over with him before they had left. He reviewed it and then looked around him for landmarks. Finally, he spoke to the others in a low voice. "The Kraut CP is supposed to be straight ahead about 70 yards. Kirby, Littlejohn, you guys go around and to the left. Braddock, Kelly, you go around to the right. Wallace, Caissy, you're with me. Keep an eye out in the trees, too. There's almost certainly gonna be snipers." He nodded. "Let's move out." _I think I'm doing all right; I hope they think I'm as confident as I try to look._ Caje knew he had never wanted to be a leader. He passed up a chance to go to OCS out of Basic. _I never wanted to be responsible for anyone else's life. Now I've got six of them on my hands._

The squad split up as each pair moved out. Wallace, Caje and Joe went up the middle at a slow trot, crouching, watching in all directions.

Machine gun fire burst out to the left. Braddock and Kelly began shooting from the other side to draw fire from Littlejohn and Kirby.

As the others began to move, a lone shot rang out and Wallace fell, dead before he hit the ground.

_Ah, damn. Wallace …_ "Anyone pick t'at up?" Caje called as he and Joe flattened themselves to the ground.

For answer, Kelly fired off a round into the trees and the sniper slid down the trunk into the lower branches.

Caje picked up the pace and he and Joe crawled up a rise above the Kraut outpost. As Caje surveyed the CP; he came to a quick decision and rolled over to pull a grenade off his web belt. Joe followed suit and they silenced the machine gun with the explosives.

"Kirby! Littlejohn!" Caje called. "Check out the Krauts." The two soldiers stood and waved at him and jumped down. Braddock and Kelly joined the Cajuns. After a moment, Kirby gave an 'all-clear' wave and he and Littlejohn ran over to the others.

Caje knelt by Wallace, affixed the bayonet to the dead man's gun and pushed into the ground, placing the helmet on top. He snapped off a dog tag and solemnly buttoned it into his breast pocket. _Sorry, _mon ami. _You did your best …_

The patrol started back to the bivouac area. Joe gave Caje a sideways grin. "What next, Acting Squad Leader?"

Caje jerked his chin forward. "Take the point, Caissy. Kelly, take the rear."

"You better watch the chin, Frenchman. That thing goes off, you could hurt a lot of people." Kirby cracked.

LeMay ignored him. "Keep it down and let's move! The noise could bring Germans lookin' for us."

"You don't hafta tell me twice," Braddock muttered. The patrol began to double-time back to camp.

###

Helmut Kreiner hid in the underbrush, shaking. He had watched, trembling in shame, as the _Amerikaners_ wiped out his unit. _I was supposed to be the guard. I should have let them know. _He knew it was no excuse to say that it was his first action, that he was frightened. Vati_ said I was too young at sixteen to fight. Why didn't I listen to him_?

He tried to gather his resolve as the dark-haired American in charge formed up his squad and moved them out. _Perhaps I can kill one of them, just one. Maybe I can get away. If not, well, it will be my sacrifice for the Fatherland, atonement for my failure. _He gripped his dagger, and as the soldier in front hustled past him, he leaped up and stabbed the man clumsily in the stomach.

Panting, triumphant for one blazing moment, he didn't see the leader turn on him. Without thought or hesitation, in one eerily graceful movement, Caje sprang forward, unsheathed his bayonet and cut Helmut's throat.

###

"Hot DAMN!" Kelly breathed.

The others stood transfixed with shock.

Expression came back into Caje's eyes; he dropped his blade and scuttled to Joe's side. "Joe. Joey!" _Not again. Joe, stay wit' me. _S'il te plait, sha*. _Stay wit' me._ He examined his friend's injury and snapped commands at the others. "Kirby, Kelly, keep watch. Littlejohn, Braddock, get a stretcher together. We got to get him back right away." As the others scrambled to obey, Caje dressed the wound as best he could.

"We're ready." Littlejohn came forward with the stretcher.

"Kelly, Littlejohn, you take the stretcher. I'll take point, Kirby, you take the rear."

"Caje." Braddock handed him his bayonet.

"Thanks, Braddock." The scout took the blade without looking at it, wiped it hastily on the German's uniform and resheathed it. "Let's GO!"

###

"And that's my report." Caje stood at attention, not looking directly at Hanley or Saunders.

"Dismissed, Caje." Hanley saluted.

"Yes, sir." Caje saluted Hanley, nodded to Sarge and left.

Hanley and Sarge looked at one another.

"Well, that's interesting, Saunders."

"Yes, sir."

"In 24 hours he goes from refusing to kill a German soldier to taking one out with his own hands." The lieutenant sighed. "What do you think?"

"I can't say for sure, Lieutenant. Maybe he's decided to be the squad's protector."

"I'm not sure that's an improvement on falling apart. Taking on that kind of burden is only delaying the process, if you ask me. There's no way to protect everyone. I may not have been on the line all that long, but I've already figured that out." Hanley looked sideways at Saunders. "Besides, isn't that YOUR job?"

Saunders pushed back his helmet and scratched his head. "I don't mind a little help in that area," he said soberly. "It's too big for one guy anyway."

The lieutenant looked down at the letters of condolence on his desk. "That it is," he said quietly. "Dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

###

"Private Caissy?"

"Last cot on the left, soldier." The medic watched the scout walk off.

Caje sat down by his friend and took off his helmet.

"Joe?"

Caissy opened his eyes and smiled. ["Ey, Paulie. Looks like I'm goin' home, _ami_."]

Caje nodded. ["That's what Sarge said. Glad you're out of it, but wish it hadn't taken this to do it."]

["I'll be all right. _Mais_, they said you made quick work of t'at Kraut, you. _Merci!"_]

The scout nodded. ["Yeah."] He watched Joe for a moment. ["I still don't like killin' but … I t'ought about what you said. I got to use t'e stuff I was good at in Basic; knife work, garrote, sharpshootin', like t'at, and use it so t'e ot'er guys, t'ey get home. I owe it to T'eo."] His eyes were hooded and dark.

Joe thumped him on the knee lightly. ["_C'est bien_, Paulie. But you do it so you get home, too. Dere's people who are still alive who want to see you come back. What you t'ink your _maman_ or _papa_ or _M'sieu' _Pierre would t'ink if t'ey got de telegram, eh?"]

Paul nodded. ["Yes, of course. Joe, when you get back, and you're feeling okay again, go see _Nonc_ Pierre for me, 'kay? And _maman et papa, aussi, bien sûr"], _ he added hastily.

["Sure, I can do t'at"], Joe said easily.

["And tell _Nonc_ Pierre …"] Caje looked at his hands. ["_Mais_, you know what to tell him, _non_?"]

["Yeah. I do. I'll ask him to write you, _d'accord_?"]

_["Très bien_."]

Joe was relieved to finally see a wide grin on his friend's face.

Caje continued, ["And tell Hélène I need more cookies. Braddock ate almost all the last batch."]

["Why am I not surprised?"] The two of them laughed and talked about lighter things until a nurse came back and told Caje it was time for him to go.

###

**July 16, 1944**

**Bayou Liberté, Louisiana**

**Paulie,**

**I saw Joe Caissy yesterday and he told me about your pain over Theo's loss. I will not insult your grief by telling you I understand. No one can really understand such things for another. You have my deepest sympathies for the loss of the one who was as close to you as _un_ _frère_.**

**Joe said you wished I had told you what war was like. _Cher_, what could I tell you that could have helped? You knew, even as a young boy, that men are injured in war and die, sometimes horribly. I know you could not have been surprised by that. I could not have helped you appreciate the horror of death in Europe by talking to you in Louisiana. I'm sorry to say you had to see it for yourself.**

**And your war is not my war. You are not fighting in trenches, dealing with trench foot and rats and standing hip deep in cold, dirty water for days on end without advancing or retreating. They say the Germans have not used gas as they did in my war and I am more thankful for that than I can ever say. I too often watched the horrific deaths of men unready for German mustard gas attacks. I pray you will never experience that.**

**There was no way for me to prepare you for what you will see on a day-to-day basis. You can only live it as best you can, armoring yourself however you are able against the inevitability of losing to death or injury the men you fight with, many of whom will come to be as close as brothers. You will see atrocities against civilians and encounter treachery and deceit, when those who should be your allies show their true colors and do all they can to sabotage your mission or kill you.**

**Paulie, I know this; if you don't find an outlet for what you experience on the battlefield, it will destroy you. Some men drink, others find solace with women, many gamble, some will even fight. Please know, _cher neveu_, there is nothing you can say, nothing you can experience, that I will not listen to for you, when you need to talk and you have no one else to talk to. I will never judge you – I promise that. So long as I am here, you will never be alone.**

**Please take care of yourself.**

**_Avec l'affection_, _ton nonc,_**

**_Pierre LeMay_**

_- 30 - _

* In spoken Cajun French, the word "cher" is pronounced "sha".


End file.
